Bedtime stories
by Rine Wolve
Summary: Spock/Uhura. A series of stories containing funny and romantic events that happen... in his bed. Attention! Sexy ahead :) While this is fairly smut less (just clean, cute, funny sexy), it's rated M, just in case. Happens both during Academy years, and on the Enterprise. I'll be sure to specify and alternate.
1. It's in the stars

**Academy**

* * *

><p>"<em>Ashayam, <em>do you have signs on Vulcan?"

Spock is touched by the way she calls him "beloved" in his native tongue. They are seated on his bed. She is leaning against him, doing leisure reading on her tablet, while he is grading essays. Although he doesn't show it as much as he silently worries she'd like –adding to a long list of other sentiments- he appreciates these moments, when she joins him, regardless of the fact that she is tired from exams and that he is stern and on academic mode.

She seems to be having fun with her reading. As usual, she has removed her blouse, because of the heat in his quarters, and is in a cute, lacy under-shirt. The place where her naked shoulder touches his arm, burns him pleasantly.

When she poses him that question, it take him a moment to go from the severe, technical tone of his own reading to Nyota's casual, warm, human voice.

"Signs?" he echoes, without lifting his eyes from his PADD. "Would you be more specific?"

"Star signs." she specifies.

"Are you referring to astrology?"

"Yes."

He starts explaining: "In our distant past there was such a… science." and he can't help but add an ironical undertone to the word. "But after our embrace of logic, vulcans began to view astrology as a superstition and I believe you already know our take on that subject."

"Hm. Definitely a Virgo." Nyota muses out loud.

"Pardon?"

She smiles, a little embarrassed. "I normally don't do this. I've accessed these sites on star signs and I was reading about Gemini… that's me. And I started thinking what your sign would have been, had you been born on Earth. So I've looked through all. And you strike me as a Virgo."

"Latin word for "virgin". Designating a constellation in the proximity of Earth. Do detail."

Without expecting further invitation, Nyota begins reading, excitedly:

" _If you need your T's crossed and your I's dotted, call a Virgo man. He will relish the task. Precise, exact, and critical, the Virgo man knows that the devil is in the details, and he pays attention to them. He is also hardworking, efficient, and methodical and can usually work or reason his way out of any challenge_."

"Precisely." he states, with a tone giving away the fact he was slightly impressed. Yet, it still isn't enough to make him lift his eyes from his PADD.

"Ah! But wait, there's more! _He has a tremendous sense of duty and will work towards serving the greater good, be it his family, friends, work network, or community. He is skilled at fact finding and enjoys getting to grips with minutiae that many others would find overwhelming. He is usually Employee of the Month or Most Valued Player on any team, as everyone knows that you can count on the Virgo man to get things right the first time, and every time."_

She pauses, awaiting another response from him, but he doesn't give one, so she goes on reading.

_"__Quite undemonstrative and introvert, the Virgo-born represent waters that run deep. Wise, witty and well spoken, the Virgo have a good understanding of human nature and can effectively help people solve their problems. _Well? Still think it's superstition?"

"Hm, sounds to me like all vulcans could be… Virgos." he wittily comments.

_"_Haa-haa!" Nyota mocks him and continues reading: "_Now let's have a look at what their other positive as well as negative traits are._

_Positive traits: meticulous, intelligent, practical, analytical, reliable, modest, precise, observant, helpful._

_Negative traits: fussy, fastidious, harsh, over-analyzing, skeptical, nagging, inflexible, cold, pedantic."_

"Over-analyzing? Nagging?" Spock suddenly interrupts her, finally lifting his eyes from his reading. "Do you find that my behavior towards you falls into that category?"

"Spock, each sign has a general set of qualities and a set of flaws." she lovingly explains. "But they are guidelines."

Nyota attempts to resume the reading, but Spock doesn't seem to want to let go of the subject that easily.

"Logically. But am _I_ nagging?"

"Why are you making a fuss?" she lowers the tablet in her lap. "Don't you want me to read further?"

"You haven't answered my question."

"You really want to get stuck here?"

"Procrastinating only suggests you agree with that material."

"Well, honestly, right now, you kinda _are_ nagging." her voice has a tint of annoyance, although she pretends to be smiling.

"I see."

Nyota can perceive him thinking, as the clicking of his brain wheels suddenly gets louder. She wants to steer clear of any heavy discussion; she is too tired for something as serious as provoking hidden complexes in her usually composed and confident partner. So she tries to quickly move on with the reading.

"To continue…"

"What about other circumstances?" he insists.

"Oh, I can't believe it." she sighs. "You're missing the point. It's not about you. It's something general."

"However, you did categorize me in this particular star sign with this particular set of flaws."

"I've read a whole list of them, one more bothersome than other. Why get stuck with the nagging and over-analyzing?"

"It was you who has verbally accentuated these two, while reading them."

"Was this… I did not accen…". ~Damn Vulcan hearing!~ She rubs her forehead, trying to relieve the distressing aggravation his remark has made her feel. "I guess that's exactly why vulcans don't have signs! Forget about it."

She puts the tablet down and retreats to her side of the bed, arms crossed over her chest, eyebrows lightly frowning. Her sudden departure leaves a cold spot, where she had been leaning on him. Spock finds it uncomfortable. Plus, he can't ignore the alarming signs of her arms crossed and the line "forget about it", which he had learned from experience it wasn't to be taken literally.

"I am… sorry?" he asks, as always, when he doesn't understand what exactly he has done to make her angry. "Nyota?"

"What?"

"Do continue."

"I don't think it's a good idea."

"Please."

"Are you sure? Aren't you gonna interrupt me again?"

"I promise I will not."

"OK." She takes the tablet in her hands again. "Let's get to something more exciting, then. Erogenous zones."

"Excuse me?!" and as Nyota throws him a very suggestive look, he continues: "Sorry for interrupting you again. I merely do not understand."

"You don't understand erogenous zones!?" it is more an annoyed affirmation, than a question.

"Of course I do" he calmly states "but I am puzzled as to how can there be certain such zones for a certain sign. With the proper stimulation, every zone can become erogenous."

"It's… A… Guideline! " she bellows, exasperated, slamming the tablet on the bed.

"Ok? Please, calm down." he gestures with his palms towards her, her sudden burst of anger stirring him inside, but not flinching a muscle on his face.

"No! You calm down!"

"I am calm."

"You don't get it, do you? This was supposed to be fun."

"Fun." he utters, as if it's the first time he has ever heard that word.

"Oh, that's right! Another thing you didn't have on Vulcan, beside signs!"

"Nyota, insulting my planet is…"

"I'm not _insulting_ anyone!"

"It simply eludes me how the lining of one's flaws can be considered funny by the person in question."

"Oh… my… God! You're still stuck in the flaws thing!" Nyota gestures with her arm.

"Or is it another one of those situations when you are deliberately trying to get into a fight with me, to release exam related stress?"

"Don't you make this about me. You're the one who felt offended, mr. Perfect. I didn't hear you object to the qualities. You think you don't have any flaws?"

"That is a illogical supposition. There is no such thing as a perfect individual. Of course I have flaws. I merely failed to apprehend that…" and he suddenly stops and blinks, unsure whether he is able to say the rest.

"That… That what, Spock?"

It disturbs him when she pronounces his name like that: as if it were a swear word.

"That they bother you." he blurts out. "You have never told me directly that I… nag you and over-analyze things. Though I am aware I sometimes do and that it annoys you. But that is most of the times an expression of my affection and concern. You should have told me it bothers you and I would have ceased immediately."

"Well, cease! Now!" she cries out. "You're nagging me and over-analyzing me and you're driving me crazy!"

Although it's only for a second, Nyota can see the saddest expression of surprise in his big eyes, as his eyebrows flicker upwards and then downwards into a frown. He leans backwards, his arms hanging, eyes idly fixing a point on the wall and, if she didn't know him better, she could swear he is mildly… pouting. He looks as if his inner system has crashed on receiving too many emotions at once. Nyota feels heartbroken.

"Spock?" she asks worryingly.

He doesn't answer. He wouldn't know how to. His logic is compromised: he has asked for a confirmation of what he has observed, and was given one. Why then, instead of feeling satisfied, has he received that sudden surge of disappointment and sadness? He tilts his head, the result of his analysis confusing him. To Nyota, he looks like a lost puppy.

~Oh, I see.~ he suddenly understands. ~This must fall under the illogical logic of being in love.~ he concludes, accessing that still new to him mental file of information, created on the day he had realized he had developed feelings for a woman from Earth.

"Spock…" she touches his shoulder gently.

He looks at her hand then at her, with a calm expression, that does a poor job concealing the hurt he is feeling. It is so strong it is transmitted through her hand.

"Oh, Spock… I'm sorry!" and Nyota embraces him slowly. "I'm… I'm just tired." she mutters, face buried in his shoulder. "We both are."

Although she doesn't expect it, Spock turns towards her and hugs her back. She holds him tighter, hoping he would feel how sorry she is and how much she loves him. He is able to perceive it. She brakes their hug and takes his face in her palms, looking him in the eye.

"Sometimes you totally baffle me with what's going on in that head of yours. You don't bother me! And I don't want you to change. You are such an amazing person and I love you exactly the way you are. I promise you, this zodiac stuff… wasn't an excuse for me to throw flaws in your face. When I first read about my sign's flaws I had a huge laugh. I wrongfully supposed it would make you laugh, too."

He cups his hands over hers and lowers them.

"I have made wrongful suppositions as well. I apologize. I seem to have… over-analyzed the situation." and he managed a half smile.

"Oh, _now_ you're joking." Nyota smirks and kisses him.

He kisses her back. She hugs him again and a phrase from what she had read about Virgos passes through her mind. ~_The Virgo man has a cool exterior with a sensitive interior; this man takes patience and understanding._~ She smiles, knowingly.

"I'd better go to my room and rest." she says all of a sudden and releases him. "You should rest, too."

She is looking around for where her blouse might be, when she can feel his hand over hers. The slight tingle startles her. She turns. She is confronted by huge, warm brown eyes and a slick smile.

"When I interrupted you, I believe you were reading something about… erogenous zones?"

"Huh?"

He raises one eyebrow.

"Oh…"

An arm slides gently around her thin waist, pulling her to his chest.

"Oh!"

His lips touch her earlobe, as if by mistake, and a second arm locks her tight in a loving embrace.

"Oh, Spock…"

She tilts her head back, on his shoulder.

"Care to develop that subject?" he asks in a low voice, his lips touching her long neck.

She turns to face him completely. He finally understood the hints.

"Well…" she begins, her fingers slipping under his T-shirt, "for Virgos, it's the stomach area."

She barely brushes the skin on his abdomen. His vulcan heart is throbbing under her fingertips. After all that time, it is still curious for her to find a heartbeat there. She brushes the skin once more, this time with her nails. She receives the response in the form of a shiver and the minuscule bumps forming.

"Fascinating." he whispers, in vulcan.

She snickers and pushes him gently on his back, rolling up his T-shirt. She caresses the skin on his belly with her hands, at leisure, watching his face, as he contemplates the sensations, eyes closed. Then she leans and begins kissing it, letting her hair sweep the area and her tongue play on the surface. Her hands are striking his waist, massaging the strong muscles. His breathing intensifies slightly and his heart begins pounding.

"You like that?"

He growls softly, a noise Nyota has become familiar with and fond of.

"I love your body! Sometimes I feel like I could just eat you up!"

Nyota shrieks and then laughs wholeheartedly, when Spock suddenly grabs her and turns her over, on her back.

"And what about Gemini?" he asks from above her.

She exposes her palms.

"Their hands." and smiles lovingly.

He returns the smile. His fingers intertwine with hers, their sensations mingling, caring words traveling back and forth between them, as the sweet pressure of his body over hers fills her with a desire she can't resist.

"Logically." he whispers, near her mouth, delaying the kiss, until she steals it from his lips.


	2. The Vibe

**Starship**

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><p>"Spock! I'm trying to watch this…" and Nyota removes his hand from around her belly, not without a guffaw. "Don't you like it?"<p>

"I do. I find it… fascinating."

Yet Spock hasn't been paying attention to the movie for some time now and instead is curled on one side to face her. He has been playing with a lock of her hair for the past five minutes, sending out what Nyota called "the Vibe". But she has decided to resist it; she's giving herself a sort of test today, totally spontaneous. A good idea, she thinks, to see for how long she can stand that cute "elf" off. So she mercilessly doesn't throw him one look, knowing that if she saw his bedroom eyes, she would be lost.

However, persistent Spock isn't the type to give up that easily. He's let his hand advance till he's reached the thin curve of her waist and even dared to venture a few inches under the fabric of her undershirt, softly stroking the chocolaty skin with his fingertips. That is when Nyota reacted by grabbing his hand and putting it aside.

He sighs emphatically and very funny –it is meant to be like that- like a puppy asking for a treat. Nyota bursts into laughter for one second, but quickly recomposes herself. He moves closer to her, so that she can feel the warmth of his body, his breath on her cheek, his stare burning her skin. He caresses that cheek with one finger, but Nyota turns her head away with a falsely annoyed "Tsk!", without being able to hide a smile.

"I really want to watch this! Don't you get it?" she snaps at him, crossing her arms over her chest and gathering her knees.

Spock is by now well acquainted with his counterpart's whims; experience has taught him to discern between a real negative emotion, one that required… "talking it through" and a false, challenging one. He is aware that, sometimes, Terran women don't know what they want. Also, that a battle is won with a good strategy.

"I understand." he answers calmly. "And you do not need to feel disturbed. I was merely thinking about something and it has triggered an affectionate response from me."

"Oh, yeah? What were you thinking of?" she can't resist her curiosity, yet keeps a neutral tone of voice.

"I was reminded of something that you often do." and he moves closer still, so his lips touch her ear.

"And what's that?" she tries to ignore the sudden surge of sensations.

"I was reminded of…" and he whispers the rest of it in her ear, in his native tongue.

Nyota's jaw drops and instantly feels her face flush.

"Ah!" she shrieks. "You cheeky devil!" and she slaps his shoulder loudly.

Spock muffles his laughter, the way he always does.

"Why such a reaction? I was merely stating what is of my liking."

Nyota throws him a spiteful look and mock scolds him.

"And to think how people on this ship view you and look up to you. They say: "He is such a serious guy!" And you? You're just a… man, like all men. Nothing but freaky stuff in your head."

She was silent, while Spock did his muffled laughter again.

"You know," she suddenly adds with a smirk, after a moment's thought, emulating his remark "it is of… _my_ liking, as well."

"Cool…" he emulates one of her remarks, in return, with a slight tone of expectation.

"And you would like me to do that now?" she unexpectedly asks, in a kittenish voice.

"Um…" he feels a trap.

"Forget it!" she snaps. "Because I want to watch the movie." she concludes. "Your… "Vibe" doesn't affect me in the least."

"To which… "Vibe" are you referring?" he plays on. "You cannot be suggesting that I am doing anything to you. I am not even touching you."

"And even if you were…" she confronts his eyes, daringly, coldly "…it wouldn't matter."

"Is that so?" and Spock suddenly grabs her and starts tickling her.

Nyota laughs and writhes in a futile attempt to escape, but although Spock isn't holding her very tight, he also isn't cutting her any slack. And while having her distracted, he steals a kiss from her lips.

"No!" Nyota cries out through laughter, and hides her head in her chest.

Spock kisses her neck, but that's where she's the most ticklish so she starts bellowing:

"No, no, not the neck, not the neck!" so he kisses her a few more times, all the while pinching at her ribs.

"I'm gonna pee!" she cries, although it isn't true, but it does get him to stop.

Given a break, Nyota proceeds to her own attack. But it isn't that easy to tickle Spock, because he is a lot bigger than her and because he –unlike her, who tickles everywhere- only has two soft spots: his soles, which Nyota can't reach momentarily and one specific point on each side of his ribs, which he vehemently protects. She throws her hands at his ribs, yet Spock grabs them and gives her a reprimanding look, turning very serious all of a sudden.

"What? You started it!" and she yanks her hands away and deflects all attempts at being caught again, succeeding in accessing the dangerous zones, although Spock retracts his arms tightly to his body.

"No! Stop!" he cries out in his turn, bursting into laughter, no matter how much he wants to control it.

He writhes and turns his back to her, but Nyota can only tickle him all the better. And she is laughing at his laughter; it's the only time he laughs out loud: the mighty Vulcan, reduced to a little boy, tickled by his mom.

"Help!" he funnily cries.

Not being able to stand it anymore, he turns and grabs her wrists, this time a lot tighter.

"Ouch!" Nyota spitefully shouts, although he isn't actually hurting her.

"Forgive me, but you have to desist! You know I am not able to control myself when you do that, and I might accidentally harm you. Again."

"Ok." she agrees, remembering a bloody nose from one of his boney elbows, from a prior tickling fight. "But you leave me alone, too!"

She's crossing her arms once again, sulking. Spock is curling back next to her, this time not being able to tell whether she really is aggravated or not. The best course of action is to ask her directly. Which he does:

"Are you angry, _ashaya_?"

"Of course!" she jokingly states. "Now you can really kiss _anything_ goodbye."

After a brief thought, Spock goes back to his previous strategy. He sighs once again.

"You do not seem to realize that I am not in the need of anything. I was merely thinking."

"Yeah? And what were you thinking of this time, pray tell?"

He reaches with his hand to her face and places his fingers in the points for _emafa kito_. Nyota shakes her head.

"No, no, no! You're gonna _tell _me what you're thinking, like you did earlier."

"I was under the impression you were bothered by it. Sometimes the games terran women play, baffle me."

"Oh, please! How many terran women have you known intimately?"

Spock folds her in his arms and answers in vulcan.

"Only one. My Nyota."

"Good answer." she says "You're not completely hopeless." She cuddles to him and purrs: "This feels so good! My big Vulcan guy."

"Am I to understand that… the "Vibe" is taking effect?"

"A-ha! So, you admit it!"

Spock does his muffled laughter thing again and strikes her cheek with his nose.

"I don't know about that…" Nyota continues. "You haven't told me what you have in mind, yet."

Spock starts whispering into her ear, and Nyota giggles, when suddenly there's a beep from the comm and the captain's voice comes through.

"Mr. Spock? Are you there?"

He jumps up and grabs his comm.

"Affirmative, Captain? Is something the matter?"

"I'm very sorry to disturb you, Commander, but we have a sort of a problem on the bridge, that would require your assistance. Do you think you could join us?"

"Of course, Captain. Immediately." and gets up, heading for his uniform.

Nyota sits up as well.

"Should I come, too?"

"I will inform you if such is the case, Lieutenant." he formally answers, which is in heavy contrast with the fact that he has just dropped his sweat pants and T-shirt and is stark naked.

Nyota smiles lovingly, watching him suit up. She lies down, hands under her head and says loudly, enticingly:

"That is such a pity! You just got me convinced. And I'm sweaty from all that tickling and whispering. Especially in my panties. Wanna see?"

Spock, who is just about to exit his quarters, is stunned, eyes wide open and mouth agog. But that's just for a couple of seconds, before he recomposes himself and answers, formally still, yet very funny:

"Lieutenant, are you well aware of the fact that this uniform is somewhat tight and revealing… and that I have to go on the bridge now?"

Nyota laughs out loud both at his remark and at him rearranging… stuff, in the crutch area.

"This calls for retaliation. It is not over." he coldly adds while his cheekbones are splattered with dark grey-green.

He exits.

When he later returns to his quarters, Nyota is still there. She has fallen asleep in his bed.

The air was so warm in there and that pillow imprinted with his scent so soft and inviting that she hugged it, closing her eyes, and, in no time, mr. Sandman had whisked her away to Dreamland. She can hear in her dream the electronic door opening and Spock's firm steps as he enters, suddenly muting, no doubt, on seeing that she is sleeping.

He quietly changes into his sweat pants again and curls in front of her on the bed. He touches foreheads with her.

"_Ashayam_." Nyota mumbles.

"Yes, _ashaya_." he answers.

"You've come back. Everything… all right… on the bridge?" she barely hums, eyes closed.

"Nothing you should worry about."

She puts one hand on his bare shoulder and remarks "You're cold."

"It's alright. I am getting warmer already."

But Nyota protectively pulls him to her, enveloping him in her arms, in her warmth. She can feel his heart deliciously pounding. He cleaves to her and she moans in surprise and delight at how aroused he is.

"Oh, my…" she murmurs. "Are you going to make love to me?"

"It was constantly on my mind while I was away from you." and he presses her firmly against him.

"Well… that isn't very Vulcan, sir, is it?"

"Isn't it?" he pulls her undershirt over her head.

"It is?!" she gets out of her pants.

"How many vulcans have you mercilessly teased?" he does the same with his pants.

"Only one. My Spock." and their mouths meet in a much too delayed kiss.

The comm beeps once more, startling them both.

"Mr. Spock, are you…"

Spock flies towards where he's left it, grabs the comm almost angrily and hisses in it:

"Jim, while I do appreciate you asking advice on how to beat miss Marcus at chess, some of us have significant others in our lives, that need attending to."

"Well, sheesh! Rub it in, why don't ya, you pointy ea…" Jim's disappointed voice resounds, before being abruptly interrupted when Spock switches his comm off, and casts it over his shoulder.

"Where were we?" he virtually throws himself on the bed, with a swiftness so specific to him... in combat.

"You were… attending to me?" Nyota smiles and welcomes him in her arms.


	3. How did this happen?

**This is so very intimate! I can't believe I wrote it. I can't believe I'm posting it. If you don't have something nice to say about it… please, just say nothing at all.**

* * *

><p><strong>Academy<strong>

* * *

><p>"How did this happen?" and as she mutters it, she hides her face inside her palms and laughs quietly… or sobs, he can't really tell.<p>

She still breaths a little heavily and exhales soft sighs of pleasure. Her body still winds gently and he can see her heart pounding through her chest, making her breasts start. Her skin is wet and shimmers in the dim light. When she uncovers her face, her cheeks, her palms, are dampened by tears.

"Why are you…" he begins.

"Hush…" she silences him.

She leans strongly against his chest, lines herself with his whole body, as if wanting to completely merge with him, takes his loose arm and wraps it around her waist tightly, twining her fingers with his; she can feel the tingle, as his psy receptors touch her palm, transmitting his surprise, love, concern. ~Fine. ~ she transmits back. ~Hold me.~

He spoons her, his face buried in her hair, drawing in her scent, one arm under her neck, the other pressing her to him. Their bodies and minds are still joined. He can still perceive everything that has been happening to her and is making him slightly dizzy, although not unpleasantly. He has to analyze and shields a part of his mind from her. In that part, he recounts every move he took and her reactions to them. He's taking in all the new data… he has to turn everything into data, lest an emotional response overwhelms him: the burning in his chest, a burden, yet surprisingly nice, tightening his stomach muscles almost painfully.

Her sensations have passed through his body as well, thanks to their bond: the pleasant convulsions and contractions in her lower abdomen area; the sudden surge of energy in her chest area, similar to an explosion –as he could hear loudly in her mind; the feeling of heat in the neck and head area; the overall tingle; the –he can't find a more academic word- delicious relaxation of every muscle in the body, after the peak point. To a certain extent, it was similar to his orgasm, but immensely more complex and emotional. ~And satisfying.~ he catches himself thinking. It was certainly worth any effort. He also feels disturbingly proud and dismisses it as quickly as possible.

Her breathing is slowly returning to normal. She's smiling. She turns to face him, cuddles and kisses him slowly, relishing the feeling of his sensual lips. He looks at him deeply, lovingly. Her face is flushed and there is a special glow in her eyes, their color like liquid, rich honey.

"How did this happen?" she whispers her question once again and bites her lower lip.

"I believe the spooning position has facilitated prolonged, consistent access to your G-spot with my…"

She covers his mouth and almost laughs.

"Don't answer it like that, silly!" she kisses the back of the hand covering his lips. "And don't you dare turn this into science. Again. OK?"

He nods and emits a muffled "Uh-huh." before she releases her grip, not understanding completely, yet indulging her.

"There are other… forces at work, here." she adds, mysteriously.

He knows she is talking about the abstract notion of love, while he would refer to it as the more down to Earth physical compatibility.

"You seem to have decided on an answer of your own. What kind of answer should your question elicit, then, from me?"

She almost laughs again and kisses him. He raises one eyebrow and kisses her back.

"This never happened to me before… with anyone… not like this…" she whispers against his mouth.

"I am aware." he whispers back.

"I didn't think I was able to… but turns out, I was…" she bites his lip.

"I never doubted it." he kisses the corner of her lips. "All the data pointed to…"

"It…. was… awesome!" she chants, pressing her breasts to his chest.

"Yes. Most." he sighs into her mouth.

"Most… awesome?!" she looks at him, amused by his unlikely grammar mistake.

"I meant… " he looks away, cheekbones in a darker shade.

"I know." she caresses them and gently taps his temple. "_Emafa kito._ And you're right: it was… most awesome."

"I could have perceived it, even without the bond. You were quite loud." the corners of his mouth sweep upwards.

"Yes, I was." she nods, slightly embarrassed.

"You called my name. Repeatedly." he adds, a tad proudly.

"Yes, I did." she still shies away.

"And you had no control over your body." he raises his eyebrow.

"No, I hadn't." she shakes her head. "Isn't it amazing? Me? Losing control?"

"I have physically felt your contractions."

"Dear God…" she hides her face.

"You have sunk your fingers into the skin on my thigh so tightly, that I thought you were ripping it away."

"Oh, I'm so sorry." she rubs his thigh, carefully.

"It is of no consequence." and then he lightly frowns. "But you... cried afterwards."

"Yes, I did." she nods again.

"Because you… liked it?" he adds, unsure.

"Because it has moved me." she points to her bosom. "In here. Like an explosion. Like fireworks. It was… most awesome." she repeats, leaning her head against his neck.

"Is that so?" he softly muses, brushing her hair with his fingers, although he knows it was.

"M-hm. I want more." she decisively states.

"Um…" is slightly embarrassed.

"Well, not right now." she quickly adds. "The next time?"

"I believe it is possible. Once your body has been shown how to react to certain stimuli, it will…"

She mutes him with her hand again. So he simply says:

"Of course. I would be happy to… collaborate with the... forces at work."

She bursts into laughter. At the same time, tears flood her cheeks. She covers her eyes, but he lowers her hands.

"I understand now. Though I am not prone to showing it, I…" he squeezes her hands "I am equally as moved."

She can feel it, through her hands. She draws to his chest and sobs silently, while he caresses her back gently. She quiets down after a while and is calmly curled on his arm, her frame relaxed, her nose touching the hollow of his collar bone and looks like she might fall asleep. He dares not disturb her, although he is in some discomfort.

"Spock…" she suddenly mumbles.

"Yes?"

"Your right arm. Isn't it sore?"

"I would not know: I seem to have lost the overall feeling of having it. For a while now."

"Oh, God." she quickly sits up and allows him to move, which he does, not without a slight grimace, dragging his limp arm with his other hand and turning on his back.

"Does it hurt?"

"I will know, once the blood resumes its flow into it."

"I'm sorry." she grins, squinting her eyes.

Her hair is cascading over her breasts. He pushes some of it back over one shoulder.

"I am Vulcan. I am able to suppress pain." he prides himself.

"Oh, yeah?" laying herself over half of him, wrapping one leg around his. "What about pleasure?"

"Only if it would be at an inappropriate circumstance."

He can feel every detail of her anatomy on the side that has only received the hard press of his bed, for a long part of their previous entangle. It arouses him instantly.

"Is this an inappropriate circumstance?" she plays with her fingers on his chest.

"Hardly."

She reaches down his abdomen, lower and lower still and is surprised of her found.

"Oh, my God!" she laughs. "Spock! Could this be… the next time? Already?"

"Quite possibly. There is only one way for you to find out." and he pulls her on top of him, determined, while their mouths meet in a passionate kiss.


	4. How did this happen? 2

**Starship**

* * *

><p>"How did this happen?" and he retracts his fingers from her temple, as if something burned them.<p>

They are both seated on his bed, facing each other.

He blinks in amazement, his usually blank expression now rich with emotions, eyes wide open, lips slightly parted. In his mind, he can still perceive that tiny flicker, just a speck, yet a fully formed consciousness, busily working, building itself a body.

She has hidden it for as much as she could, from the moment she suspected it, till she got it confirmed. It was not an easy task, keeping things from him, and she congratulated herself on her success with a muffled giggle, when seeing that sudden surge of sentiment on his face. For the thing even harder than concealing information from him, was surprising him.

He had suspected something. Her not wanting to be touched, as if she were hiding from him? He had every reason to suspect the worse. But, not this!

"Nyota…" he covers his mouth, in a gesture so not specific to him.

"Spock?"

He reaches out towards her belly, searching for permission with his eyes and she grants him with a tilt oh her head and a smile, while she lifts her shirt to reveal her skin. He closes his eyes and carefully touches the lower part of her tummy. And there it is again: it draws his palm fully against the skin, like a magnet, the sensation now even stronger. It's sparkly and luminous and bursts through the womb, enveloping Nyota's entire body, climbing up his arm.

He gasps, when it reaches his shoulder and feels like the vibration knows him and he knows it; it feels like Nyota and him and something entirely new, wondrous, beyond comprehension. And it's strong, intelligent and healthy. And unstoppable. Suddenly he is clearly told to cease his pry, ~disturb~ resonating in his mind. And he removes his hand.

"How… did _this_… happen?" he asks again, eyes still large and full of wonder.

"Well" she smirks, remembering a similar discussion from their academy years "I believe that when a sperm cell encounters an egg cell, they…"

"I know _how_ it happens. I just… I… I didn't think... I..."

Nyota has certainly never heard him stutter before. She draws nearer to him. Softly brushes one of his cheeks; they are flushed grey-green and hot.

"My Spock? Lost for words?"

"I was not expecting this. I... had my doubts."

"Doubts? As in..."

He starts explaining fast, so as not to let the gravity of his remark resound too painfully in his ears:

"Given the fact that I am a crossbreed and most of the known crossbred fauna is unable to produce viable..."

Like so many times before, when he got too technical or scientific at an inappropriate moment, she gently covers his mouth with her hand. She does that also because it always disturbs her to hear of unspoken complexes that burden his mind. She kisses the back of the hand above his lips.

"I've long told you: there are other forces at work, here."

He leans his forehead into hers, eyes closed and is suddenly overwhelmed.

"_Ashaya..._" he whispers, and for a moment she doesn't know whether he is naming the force at work, or calling her by the pet name he has given her: love.

"_Ha, ashayam._" she answers.

They continue to speak in his language. His voice sounds strange when he asks her:

"_Is this your emotion?"_

_"Which emotion?"_

He inhales interruptedly and sighs without a sound. She cups both his cheeks. He covers her hands with his.

"_It is welling up inside of me._"

"_I think_ _it's yours, beloved."_

Warm drops reach the rim of her hands and she smiles, a bit surprised.

_"You're..._" but she doesn't bring herself to say it out loud; she doesn't want to disturb him with her words.

He sniffs quietly, while his hands slide up her arms, until they reach her shoulders and pull her into a gentle embrace, in which she can feel a sort of veneration. She wraps her arms around him in return. He leans his face into her neck. His tears dampen her skin. His back jerks slightly and his breath starts silently. She is touched and almost feels like crying herself. She can also feel his slight embarrassment and that he wished he would stop but isn't able to. So she starts a topic:

_"You know what I'm thinking?"_

He shakes his head into her neck, unable to speak.

_"I'm thinking: cute, tiny, pointy ears."_

He sighs, catches his breath for a moment and says, his nose a bit stuffy:

_"Tanned skin?"_

She hums.

_"Ok. I'm also thinking full, arched lips." _

_"Then I am thinking big... golden eyes."_

She chuckles. Breaks their embrace. Looks at him. He casts his eyes downwards, slightly shy. She mildly wipes the remainder of tears from his eyes with her thumbs and asks, in a mock bickering tone:

_"What's wrong with warm brown?"_

_"You have already picked the ears."_ he argues, slowly returning to his calm, his eyes still moist and full of an indescribable emotion.

_"And you've picked the skin."_

_"You have picked the mouth."_

_"Ok, ok, then. I'm thinking..." _she gently tugs at his fringe_ "no bangs."_

_"And what is wrong with bangs?"_

She laughs.

_"I wish to 'fluff' this child's hair."_ and ruffles Spock's bangs instead.

He catches her hand: "_Granted that you stop... 'fluffing' mine..._"

There was no verb that meant "to fluff" in Vulcan, so they simply used Federation Standard for it.

"Oh, Spock! I'm so happy!" she smiles widely and bites her lower lip, hugging her stomach.

He cups her cheeks, and his mouth moves, but there are no sounds coming out.

"A child, Spock. A baby!" and he feels her exhilaration... or is it his?

He kisses her, so that she doesn't see the tears flooding his cheeks again, this time mixing with hers.


	5. Kolinahr

**I've been thinking about changing the POV on this and posting it as a new chapter of Confessions, because, as I wrote it, it developed far beyond what I initially expected it to be. And while it still takes place in his bed, it is longer and fairly more serious –maybe even pretentious to some people's tastes- than the other drabbles in the series; and it unfolds during several occasions. So, I think it could even stand on its own as a one-shot. **

**It still has its sexy touches though (maybe a tad more explicit than what I usually write), 'cause... why not? They are the perfectly perfect couple after all and no one can convince me of anything else. **

**If you want to read more about Metta or Ubuntu, just google it. I even urge you to, lest it gets 'lost along the way'.**

**Enjoy! **

* * *

><p>Academy<p>

* * *

><p>Each morning, at sunrise, Spock meditates.<p>

Whenever she sleeps over, Nyota wakes up very early in the morning, although it's not like her at all. But it's as if a strange force tugs at her at sunrise to find his frame bathed in the first rays of the sun that pervade through the window.

The first time she sleeps over and is suddenly awakened to find him gone, she doesn't know what to make of it. She hasn't heard or felt him getting out of bed or moving about the room, yet the side he has slept on has gone cold. She thinks he must have left the room for some reason. But when she turns towards the large window overlooking the campus, to search for any sign of him, there he is, in the spot she would see him many times to follow. She doesn't dare disturb him, and even worries that her eyes, her glance would... but can't look away, the feel of sacredness and mystery overwhelming her. She can feel her heart pounding, for no apparent reason. She can feel a kind of terrifying, incomprehensible love.

He kneels down on one knee, his head tilted slightly forward, his stance reminding her of the ancient depictions of Middle Ages warriors, kneeling to be knighted. His hands are folded together as for a prayer, with the exception of his index and middle fingers that stand up, joined. His eyes are closed and the expression on his profile is a mixture of complete awareness, determination and equanimity. He is perfectly still, in the not most comfortable of positions, for -Nyota knows now- an hour and a half. He is steady as a rock, but not tense.

He arranges his meditation so that it always ends after the sun has fully risen. He doesn't use an alarm to wake him and she actually has no idea how he does that. She usually catches the last ten, fifteen minutes of it, when the light of the slowly rising sun envelops him as in a celestial embrace; she thinks she can discern a certain aura then, mildly glowing around him, but dismisses it as a trick played by the light. On occasion, she wakes up at the beginning of it and watches his silhouette in the dim blue twilight, until her eyelids close and she falls back to sleep, his presence there comforting. But she never feels him actually leaving the bed.

At first, she doesn't ask him about it and he doesn't speak of it. The very first time for that matter, she closes her eyes and pretends she is still sleeping, as he is slowly rising from his position. She can hear the fabric of his cloths shift and then perceive him walking into the kitchen, the smell of tea following shortly. She falls asleep a couple of minutes after he returns to the bed.

The second time, however, when she does the same thing, he can hear his cloths shift and then his voice, even deeper than usual, startles her:

"You are not disturbing me." he says and she opens her eyes to find him looking down at her with a slight smile. "Tea?" he asks, but she shakes her head, sleepily.

Now she knows that at the end of his meditation he gets up slowly, eyes still closed, hands still together; he straightens his back and unfolds his fingers, letting his arms lower to the sides. He opens his eyes. The following part is kind of her favorite: he stretches slowly, but firmly, reaching up with his arms and then bending them behind his head; sometimes he yawns silently. She is amused when he does that and thinks he looks like a cat. It's a very human gesture and she knows that no one, beside her, on Earth, has ever even imagined him stretching or yawning, as if the insensitive, severe and relentless Vulcan could actually feel fatigue, or tension, or numbness, as if he were made of flesh... which no one believes... which she knows for certain he is.

* * *

><p>When he is finished with his routine, it's still pretty early for her to start her day and, if it's a working day, she drowses until her alarm goes off, while he, seated at her side, engulfs himself in reading padds, occasionally sipping his tea; apparently, for him, it's never too early to start working; he never goes back to sleep after his meditation. If it's during the week-end, she sometimes chooses to... drowse even longer, until she is awoken by his absence, or by him gently striking her cheek.<p>

A couple of times she does accept that tea and chooses to ask him what kind of meditation he is practicing and what does it imply. During the first of such talks, he explains precisely but not in too much detail.

"It is called _Kolinahr_. It is part of a Vulcan purging ritual." and he grows silent.

"Purging?" she is confused, wondering what kind of unwholesome elements that flawless and pristine man feels the need to be purged of. "Of what?"

"Of emotion, of course." he retorts.

"Of course..." she echoes, but his answer makes her feel slightly uneasy and threatened.

During their second talk, after she's had time to chew the cod of her reflection, she's determined to not let him get away that easily. It quickly degenerates into an argument:

"So, you're telling me that you sit there completely still, for God knows how long..."

"Precisely 90 minutes." he interrupts.

"...with a, to put it colloquially, scantily clad woman lying in your bed, across from you..." she continues, paying no mind to him "... and you strive to purge yourself of emotion?"

He is silent for a couple of moments, taking in all the implications of her accusation, then answers:

"Nyota, my meditation has nothing to do with my feelings towards you. _Kolinahr_ merely helps me focus my attention and not let emotions interfere with logic. In other words, when the situation demands it, I see things clearly, multifaceted and as they truly are, which I believe is the trait I am most appreciated for."

Nyota can feel she has touched a nerve, but doesn't back down.

"Well, maybe pompous hypocrites at the Academy tell you that, but I appreciate you for other things. And it involves your emotions." and she crosses her hands over her chest.

He wants to retort, but carefully reconsiders it, only to let it spill out quickly, the next second:

"Perhaps I haven't been clear. The meditation I practice each morning is only a part of the _Kolinahr_ training. While on Vulcan, I have chosen not to undergo the complete ritual, which purges the mind of all emotion, precisely because I find my emotions to be challenging, self defining and... precious human heritage."

She can see it on his face that he is baffled as to why he's confiding in her, why he's telling her something he's not even willing to admit to himself. She knows he feels embarrassed of her stumbling upon one of his most intimate thoughts and of being forced to articulate it by the fact that it disturbs him to be misunderstood by her. She squeezes his hand and perceives all that.

"Sorry." she murmurs.

"It is of no consequence." he answers, but she knows it is.

"I'm sorry." she repeats, closer to his ear.

"I believe I said..." but she covers his mouth with a kiss.

* * *

><p>Sometimes, she chooses a different approach. And the first time she takes this course of action, he is surprised.<p>

When he comes back next to her in bed, with his mug of tea and a padd, she takes them from his hands and places them on the night stand, teasingly brushing his chest with her bosom, as she does this, staring him in the eyes afterwards, not sure whether he would consider her challenge. But she thumbs his chin, his lower lip, and it only takes a few seconds for the tension to explode into passionate kisses. Cloths fly in the air. Hands move everywhere. His skin feels even warmer than usual, his mouth hotter, the pulse of his pounding heart resounding throughout his body, resonating through hers.

"Nyota..." he sighs, amazed of her and himself, when she hastily reaches bellow his waist; his hands eagerly grab her thighs, then his fingers spread upwards on her back, pressing her to his chest, transmitting through her skin, how much he wants her.

"What?" she whispers in his ear, out of breath. "Haven't you heard of Saturday morning sex?" and she adjusts herself in his lap, gasping and moaning when she joins with him.

He gasps in his turn, and slightly tilts his head backwards. His eyes search for hers. His fingers climb to her temple and cheek bone and jaw. When he mind-melds with her, it's with such intensity that she is shaken from head to toe by the rush of his sensations into her: it's as if a dam is broken inside him and his inner fire breaks loose; it melts her into a sweet submission. His mind is ardent, bright and focused and there is only his passion in there, for her eyes and mouth, her curves, her warmth, her whole being... There is something else that she can't define or describe other than a vast and incomprehensible background to everything, overwhelming, yet somehow cold, solitary. She has felt it before, but never this precise.

When their frenzy ends, they're still panting and their skins are wet. She runs her fingers through his hair; it feels like he's taken a shower. He leans his forehead into hers. Words travel between them fast: ~awesome~ she throws, ~fascinating~ he retorts, ~amazing~ , ~most interesting~ , ~that all you have to say~ , ~what should I say~ , ~admit it~ , ~admit what~ , ~how much you loved it~ , ~it... was a notable experience~ , ~well... I've felt...~ He kisses her to stop her teasing.

The second time this happens, _she_ is the one surprised. It's not long after the first time and it follows a very interesting discussion. He is lying close to her and she can perceive him think.

"I..." he suddenly breaks the silence that has settled between them. "I will tell you a secret."

"A secret?" she wonders.

"Yes. Regarding _Kolinahr_."

"Um... Spock, you don't have to..."

"I want to." he interrupts her with certainty in his voice and so she lets him explain.

"My meditation mainly centers on awareness of breathing and bodily sensations and analyze of mental components and emotions. This sharpens my attention and sustains my logic and my calm. However, the last fifteen minutes are dedicated to something... different."

She can't help but think how she usually awakes at about that time.

"As you may know, for Vulcans, the display of emotion is considered a sign of bad taste and weakness. However, we do not shun love completely."

"I've become aware of that." she smirks and he raises an eyebrow. "But go on..."

He supports his head on one elbow. She turns to face him.

"We tend to view love with the universal meaning of it."

"As in... compassion?"

"As in _Meh'ta._"

"What?"

He explains thoroughly, and his voice is warm and deep and full of reverence.

"It is a word that translates simultaneously as kindness, compassion, positivity, benevolence, non-violence and close mental union. It describes a higher form of love, without attachments or expectations, manifesting at an infinite scale: the affections and care of the Universe for all creation and of creation towards the Universe; life itself and its purpose, if you prefer."

She listens raptly and is amazed of how profound it sounds.

"It also functions as a mental protection." he carries on. "It is possible to access _Meh'ta_ thusly: in your mind, you must strongly want that all beings in the Universe be felicitous and free of their suffering. Emitting this thought into the Universe results, by law of action and reaction, in the Universe emitting it towards oneself."

She smiles to him, genuinely impressed.

"Wow! That sounds... beautiful, Spock. And it's logical, too. The ones you hold dear are among the beings in the Universe; it's only natural that you wish for their wellness. And one of the beings in the Universe... is you."

"Of course," he elaborates "there are those that are malevolent towards you. However, that only reflects their own suffering. But if they become content and free of suffering, then..."

"...then they'll stop harming others." he completes his sentence.

"Precisely. This is the part of protection. No harm will come to you if you do not wish to harm."

"And you do this every morning?"

"I do it each time I remember it and each time I feel necessary, even if my eyes are wide open. But yes, I conclude my morning meditation with it."

"You know?" she muses. "I'm positive that this is what wakes me up every morning, when I sleep here."

"Quite possible. I am emitting it towards you, as well. And as I have stated before, you do have undeveloped telepathic abilities."

Nyota chews on her lip and ponders. The realization of the infinite, incomprehensible feeling she has perceived inside of him, when he lets her in his mind, fills her with wonder, but at the same time makes her feel somewhat puny. Yet, her humanness aches to be expressed and lived, undeniably. Uneasiness settles slowly inside of her, once again.

"What is the matter?" he asks, when she's already been silent for too long and he sees a light frown forming on her face.

Her gaze doesn't meet his, so he gently touches her cheek and her distress sends a buzz through his fingers.

"What is it, _ashaya_?"

"Spock, I..." she exhales and when she looks at him, her eyes are glistening.

He blinks twice and his eyebrows lift in worry she might cry, though he doesn't understand why she would.

"_Ubuntu_." she whispers.

"Pardon?"

"_Ubuntu_ is a Swahili word and a philosophy that matches what you've said about _Meh'ta_, though it's not as cosmic as what you've described. It's a feeling of oneness with other humans and sensitivity to their needs."

She lets out a heavy breath for the second time, then her chest jerks as she inhales interruptedly.

"What I wanted to say is that... I love you."

"Nyota..." but before he can add anything, she silences him with a finger to his lips.

"Let me finish... please. I can concur with everything you said. It sounds noble and beautiful and a true ideal. And I have great respect for all forms of life. I'm in awe of the great power the Universe has. And I do feel the oneness. But... my love for you is totally human. I love you in my human, clingy, attached way." and as she enumerates, she clenches and unfolds her fingers over his chest, while her pain is like a shadow in her eyes.

"It's surprising even to me." she continues and at this point tears roll freely down her face. "I've always been the no-strings-attached type and had somebody else told me about _Meh'ta_ last year, I would have told them that this is exactly what I strive towards." her palm cups gently over his cheek. "And then I met you. Wonderful, amazing you. So very much like me, yet so different and distant from where I stand. And from the very first moment that I met you, I knew two things: one, I'm gonna fall madly in love with you, as if I had done it before, for a million lifetimes in a row; and two... that you are way out of my league and I will never truly grasp the true essence of you."

She leans her head into his chest and sobs.

"But I love you so much it hurts. And I want you to be mine, entirely, yet I know: the Universe sent you to me and the Universe will call you back someday, because that's where you belong."

He catches her wrists in his hands.

"Nyota, look at me. Please, stop crying."

She can feel his calm and mild amusement. And when she looks at him, the corner of his mouth has indeed lifted slightly upwards, while his eyes gleam. His voice is deep and soothing and with each line, she perceives it as increasingly sexy.

"Right now, I belong in these arms." and he guides her hands around his neck.

"And these arms belong to the woman that understands and accepts me more than I sometimes do myself." he draws her by the waist, so that their bodies align.

"And has challenged me and taught me things that escaped my logic." he moves into her, closer still, so that she has that feeling of their skins merging, melting, that she adores.

"I love you, as well." he whispers, as he touches foreheads with her and Nyota can feel his words in her mind and body and she needs to gasp for air, because it fills her chest to the rim and overflows.

"And I desire you." his hand is over the small of her back, pressing her belly to a part of him that had become eager and hard, the feel of which instantly makes the inside of her womb tingle with anticipation and want, and he kisses her passionately, so that she moans into his mouth.

"And I certainly have an attachment to you." he says under his breath, between kisses, to her quivering lips, that reach hungrily for his. "Can't you feel that?"

"I can feel... everything." she whimpers, in a daze, and bites and sucks his lower lip, while his hand trails along her full curves and drags her leg over his thigh.

"Yeah... Oh, yeah!" she whines, ready for him, and it's not even weird that it's a position neither he nor she has tried before, because it comes so naturally and they join smoothly and it's so great that it makes her moan again and him gasp and both twitch; and it's so pleasant to be face to face like that, eyes lost into each other, relishing the feel of their lips, their flesh, their oneness.

And when his fingers press to her temple and they mind-meld, it is totally and she is flooded by the sacred vastness in him, only it doesn't feel cold and lonely anymore, but protective and shimmering, like she would imagine the embrace of an angel to be.

When it's all over, they are collapsed into each other, body and consciousness, she on her back, he in her arms, inside her thighs, inside her mind.

There are no words to be said anymore.

Now, when she sleeps over and awakes to see him meditating, she smiles, then closes her eyes and, with all her might, wishes for all the beings in the Universe to be happy and free of their suffering. When she does this, his eyebrow flinches and then the corner of his mouth sweeps upwards for a second.

* * *

><p>Epilogue<p>

* * *

><p>"Here." and she pushes her padd towards him, across the table, when they meet for lunch on Monday.<p>

As he reads through it, he tilts his head, and lets his lips part, while his eyebrows rise all the way up, revealing the almond shape of his dark eyes.

"I was not aware of this. Fascinating!"

"I know, right? It even has the same pronunciation; only the spelling differs. And it's a three thousand year old word! And it says that the Buddha merely rediscovered how it works, that it's actually... ancient."

"I have read about Buddhism, but in my materials it was not associated with... _Metta_."

"As with any religion, the essence of it must have gotten lost along the way, while rites and rituals took its place. But, there it is. You see? Humans did have cosmic perspective, after all."

"Indeed."

"Who knows? Maybe Vulcans visited Earth long before they met us in space." she reaches for him with her fingers.

"Maybe." his hand slides towards hers.

"And Vulcans, in their turn, must have been visited by some other advanced race."

"It was speculated that Surak was in fact... an alien."

"There you have it. _Metta_."

"_Ha_. _Meh'ta_."

She retrieves her padd and flicks through it, with a mischievous smile. When she pushes it back to him, and he sees what it is, she utterly enjoys the look on his face, as his cheeks flush green, almost instantly, but his lips make that small movement as if about to smile.

"Face spoon a.k.a. Sidewinder." he reads, in his factual voice that cannot hide his interest, while his fingers tap nimbly on the screen. "However, your leg was positioned differently. I believe you'll find this one, much more accurate."

She looks at the image, intrigued and reads:

"The Zen Pause. My God! This was actually it. But it was hardly a pause... "

"Yet it was very... zen." his disobedient eyebrow flicks upwards.

"Spock!" she says, amused, after a moment's thought.

"Yes, Nyota?"

"You totally looked this up!"

"The same as you have." he quickly points out.

"Yeah, but I get the feeling you looked it up before."

He's silent, but his lips still do that half smile thing of his.

"My God! You've looked all of them up, haven't you?"

He tilts his head.

"I believe it is called research." he finally admits.

She can't stop her guffaw, a little loud for the cafeteria, so she abruptly stops, covering her mouth and then looks at him lovingly.

"I love you." she says, twining her fingers with his.

"As do I." he responds, although the feeling has already been transmitted through his hand.


End file.
